and I'm writing on behalf of Nenek for this post. Nenek always tells me things so I know what the poem means to her. When I was a wee baby she loved to sing me and Imran the song `You Are My Sunshine' and even the simple lines have a meaning that only she understands.Anyway, the poem `Ask Me' is all about Nenek's reflection on life. She finds solace in the steady rhythm, and a comfort in knowing that what is around her surpasses our human concerns.
There are 2 important messages in the poem. One is about how we live our life and next is about people around us.
Nenek's 2nd post, the one about Sleeping Beauty, is a metaphor for her life. Imran and I know that Nenek had gone through a period of depression, that is why the line `Please don't take my sunshine away' meant so much to her. It's about us, it's about people around Nenek. She had left so much behind in her quest to move forward. She has more or less rebuilt her life and what you see now is a new woman; stronger, more confident of herself and definitely very optimistic. "Ask me whether what I have done is my life"...and it is HER life after all. Nenek is no longer a skeptical person. People have come and go in her life. Friends appear in the realm of maybe-help-maybe-hurt, and she has to let go of several `friends'. We know she had one special friend because she (this woman) used to carry us in her arms when we were babies, and she was pretty but maybe she had hurt Nenek in ways which we do not know of. Some others were backstabbers, and Nenek would use her Theory of Elimination: eliminate these people from her life. You see, Nenek is beyond caring now. She always said that Imran and I are her whole world. She loves too much and too deeply...but sometimes people don't understand her. She loves my uncle and my aunties, Papa, Mama, my grandfather Atuk, but she cannot demonstrate her love because she came from a rather conservative family in Kota Bharu (ask my Atuk..). Nenek would rather keep her peace than scream in loud quarrels but her silence is more frightening (ask her students..). She's rather Victorian in that manner, you know, taking her grief away from public eyes and all that.Nenek thinks that her undemonstrativeness (?), her silences, her quietness, her conservativeness... these are her `mistakes'. Life is complicated...but Nenek has found a new lease of life in us, her grandsons. We hope we don't disappoint her, but Nenek doesn't care. She doesn't care anymore because "what difference [does] their strongest love or hate has made". People she loved had turned against her and threw hateful words in her face...people she loved and trusted had betrayed her...but Nenek has risen above all pettiness, surfaced and showed them that she is above all these "comings and goings". Now Nenek smiles and laughs again because she can now "turn and look at the silent river and wait."
And in my and Imran's small world, Nenek' love matters. She kisses all our pains away. Ask me, and I will tell you that grandmothers are simply...GRAND.
[Can I stop now? My fingers ache...].
I bet a great load had been lifted off your chest with this piece. So, you waited all these years for Iman to surface to help you clear your clogged head? Feel much better now?
ReplyDeleteIn a big way, yes.....And this piece of writing has brought back to me a long `lost' friend when she responded to it yesterday!
ReplyDeleteIman, tell Nenek, if you can in that language of yours, that Aunty Adik/ Aunty Fadinha/ The-Other-Aunty-With-The-Messy-Hair, has learned in her journey to be a Capoeirista, that LIFE is not complicated. Life is simple, PEOPLE complicate it. People care TOO much what others think, and forget to take care of themselves first. Some Brazilian dude with overgrown muscles taught her that.
ReplyDeleteThis Aunty has also learned that fact the hard way. Developing chronic migraine and literally lost her hair (!), in the pursuit of pleasing others with a Law degree and all the while hating herself for that. 3 years of self-hatred is no easy-peasy for a person who tends to think too much. Luckily she didn't lose her sanity. She no longer carries a bald spot on her head but the migraine inside remains, the result of constant head-banging against the wall and I'm not talking air guitar style, but "get outta my head u evil voices!" style. There you go, the secret's out.
Aunty Messy Hair knew what people would say in regards to her "failure" but she just raises an imaginary middle finger up in the air and says, "Eff you. I'm happy." Iman, you don't need to know what 'eff' means, not now. Roommates sent her messages expressing their envies for her freedom and congratulating her for having the guts to break free when they couldn't.
She doesn't care what people say or think, as long as she's happy doing what she thinks is best for HERSELF.
"But...you're not a lawyer!"
"No. But I will be writing about your lawyers and the corruptions, biases and weaknesses of your judicial system. Happy reading."
Ka-pow!!!
Anyway, I still have a long way ahead of me. I can't just smile and laugh while looking at the silent river. The river I'm looking at isn't so silent. I need to swim deeper and find out what's causing all the racket.
PS: What's with the mischievous face, Iman? Were you really writing this post or were you just drafting a plan to get back to Imran?
You've always been the gutsy one and despite your weight and size, doing all those sports...but do stop your head-banging. That's NOT a sport. We have both liberated ourselves, in our own manners, much to the envy of friends and acquaintances, and I allow it in you becos I finally understood it when you threw in the towel and said "Tapi Adik tak boleh MENJIWAI law.." You were halfway there but proceed with your writings. That's where YOUR niche is. And I know you want to write about FidelCastro...and the fat Brazilian cigars. One condition: I chaperon you. (Hey you guys, I thought I wrote the article and now you're all claiming it as yours? Ni nak marah ni...and I frown fabulously, ask Nenek. Frownfrownfrown..and oh you know what Imran did to me yesterday? Asked me to bonceng on his tricycle then he tilted it and I fell thud on my head, in full view of Atuk..but he loved to hear me cry 'atit! 'atit! so he didn't scold Imran. Call that justice?)
ReplyDeleteSee Iman, I told you...the judicial system we have in this country!
ReplyDeleteOh Ma, it's fat Cuban cigars, not Brazilian. And I hope by the time we get there Fidel's still alive.
Cuban...Brazilian..cigars smell alike. Fidel's been around ever since I could remember and he still looks the same. Must be the cigars.
ReplyDelete